


Like a Good Neighbour

by LaLumiere



Series: Neighbours [1]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Bossy People, Busy!Tom, Complete, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domesticity, F/M, Food, Friendship, I Blame Seeing The Night Manager Episode 1, OFC is Forceful, Oral Sex, SMUTTY SMUT, Skull Island!Tom, Sleep, Sleepy!Tom is More Forceful, Tom Has Lots of Muscles Because of Filming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:12:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6102921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLumiere/pseuds/LaLumiere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom Hiddleston is infamous for his exhausting work ethic. Flying here, visiting there, shooting everywhere. That's why he has Alessandra, his next door neighbour. She makes sure that when he comes home to London, he actually eats and rests. </p><p>Inspired by an old interview wherein Tom mentions "falling into bed and sleeping for a week" after filming three movies at once and just generally being a productive busybody.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, The Night Manager has effectively fired up my rusty old muse. Ho-ly shit.
> 
> This is a two-parter.
> 
> No warnings, just...lots of pleasure to be had.
> 
>  
> 
> Talk to me!  
> xoxo

_**I’ll be there within an hour, darling. Thank you SO much. xo** _

Alessandra knew he was exhausted, simply for the fact that he wasn’t barraging her with a stream of texts all the way from Heathrow to his own front door. It was also easy to surmise that the schedule he’d been keeping of late would do wonders for his continually burgeoning career, but would also run him into the ground if he wasn’t careful.

Which he rarely was, the energetic man-puppy.

The previous time she’d been in this very situation, he’d completed three films back to back, attended numerous film festivals and movie premieres, and, as he’d memorably shared with the press, he “fell into bed and slept for a week.”

 _Not to mention the horrendous flu that kept him down for half of that time,_ Alessandra recalled as she turned down the linens on his bed and fluffed his pillows. She made her way into the bath to make sure there were clean towels and then left his master bedroom with the soft snick of a light switch. Making her way downstairs once more, the young lady with the arrestingly red hair caught the warm scent of the roast, carrots, and potatoes she’d been cooking in the oven for a couple of hours, mentally ticking off two different lists that popped into her mind.

_Bed turned down_

_Towels set to go_

_Dinner in the oven_

_Mail on the foyer table_

_Birthday gift (belated) on the worktop_

 

Followed by:

 

_Hawaii_

_BBC Radio 2_

_Berlinale_

_Vietnam_

If he wasn’t careful, he’d be down and out again, much like his last foray into workaholic-land. This was why, he’d sweetly told Alessandra those few years ago after they’d become friends and neighbours, he needed her around whenever he’d be coming home – for a brief moment or for an extended stay. She would get him situated and sorted out so he could just eat, sleep, and recuperate.

 _Neighbours do that sort of thing for one another,_ Tom had insisted flirtatiously, and Alessandra scoffed loudly at her handsome friend who lived just next door.

“And are you going to move your schedule around if I get a stomach bug, Tom?” she’d goaded right back. The tall, handsome man surprised her in that moment. Grabbing her hand and pulling her to him, enveloping her in a warm hug, he was all whispered sincerity against her hair.

“If I’m anywhere in town, darling, I’ll come as soon as you call.”

Those words he’d proven to be true, and not a few times. But the fact of the matter was, Tom was becoming more and more famous, and his time at Hampstead was becoming less and less prevalent.

It was because of this that Alessandra just couldn’t stay away, and thus found herself once more waiting on him to come home. She missed him, her sweet friend and neighbour. He’d been good to her the handful of times she was ill or needed help, and whenever he was in town he made it a point to try and get in touch, if only for a few minutes. His charm and gorgeous face didn’t hurt, either.

Alessandra’s attraction to him was fierce. Guarded, but fierce. She didn’t care that he might be using her – she’d done the same to him a few times when she was sick or had one of her severe migraines – and she also didn’t pay much attention to the string of women he was constantly connected to in the press. Alessandra was smart enough to realize she didn’t _really_ belong in his world, but she would take whatever she could get when he was around.

For when he was at Hampstead, he was _hers._

She thought it mildly amusing that very few women actually seemed to make it into his home, and the longer this fact presented itself to her, she dared hope that it had a little something to do with her. This was why she went the extra mile for him whenever he’d been away for an extended period of time.

She would always stock his kitchen with food and make a meal.

She would have sweets waiting for him – usually some of her own, homemade ones.

She would see to it that the house was opened up, dusted off, and ready to welcome him back.

And more recently, when he would be on his last (tall) leg, she would stay in the house with him the first night to make sure he was all right. After his bout of severe exhaustion and flu, it was just common sense, really.

She’d been his nursemaid and ended up staying at the house most of that week, although he was either sleeping or vomiting the majority of that time.

 _Bless his sweet heart,_ Alessandra recalled. _Thanking me for the cool flannels on his forehead and the small glasses of water so he wouldn’t get dehydrated._

Alessandra had always loved helping people and feeling needed, but when the eyes of appreciation came in such an arresting shade of blue, and the face of thanks looked as though it was carved of palest marble, well…she would have done just about anything.

 

 

His keys jangling onto the foyer table coincided with the oven timer going off, and Alessandra deftly lifted the roasting pan out and onto the worktop, carefully hurrying the process so she could make herself slightly more presentable before he finished rifling through the pile of bills and other post waiting for him.

“Alessandra, love?” he called after her.

She whipped off the potholders on her hands and practically ran down the hallway toward that deliciously tired voice.

“So how dead do we look this time, Mr. Busybody?” she teased as he came into her view. He had his guitar case and at least three pieces of baggage surrounding him, and his dress shirt and navy trousers looked rumpled and worn. She noticed his shoes were already off, and his toes tapped the lino as he opened an envelope. At the sound of her voice, his head shot up and a wide grin spread across his face. The mail fell to the floor; she was up and in his arms immediately.

“I’m about a nine on the dead scale, darling girl,” he laughed deeply against her neck. Alessandra felt him take in a breath of her as he squeezed her tightly against him. This was always her favorite part. He would hold her, her limbs wrapped around him, and talk to her for several seconds before putting her down.

“Well at least you still look good,” she pecked him playfully on the cheek as he continued to sway side to side with her in his arms. “I made dinner if you’re hungry. Know you must be tired.”

Tom pretended to drop Alessandra, earning him a shriek as the young woman clung to him desperately.

“Take me to the food!”

Laughing at his caveman-esque response, Alessandra broke quickly from Tom’s embrace and led him back to the kitchen, smiling to herself when she felt his hands press lightly against her shoulders for the entirety of their walk.

“You might have to feed it to me, Alessandra,” he teased sleepily as she motioned him over to the table, which she’d set earlier.

 _And so the banter starts,_ she smiled, turning her back to him. She ignored the comment for a few beats, filling his plate with meat and veg, then some freshly-baked bread, before sauntering over to the table and delicately placing the food before her neighbour.

He was splayed in his chair as though he were about to receive a lap dance instead of a dinner plate.

She’d waited for this moment for hours – excruciatingly _slow_ hours – and had choreographed her response. Taking the pins from her messy hair, she let the strawberry waves tumble from their haphazard updo, running fingers casually through them.

He didn’t so much as lift his fork. He watched.

“There are many, _many_ things I will do for you, Tom. But feeding you is not currently on that list,” Alessandra winked, sitting across from him.

She wasn’t sure if his groan in response was to her insinuation, or to the fact that he would have to lift his own utensils at the table. Either way, the sound made her want to do those many things so that she could hear it from his delicious mouth again and again.

Instead she settled for small talk so he could eat.

“I’ve got a belated birthday present for you, you know.”

Tom waited to respond until he’d swallowed the bit of roast he was chewing. Carefully wiping his mouth before speaking, he smiled in surprise at her.

“Alessandra, you know you don’t have to do that, darling.” He reached out a hand, open in invitation, and Alessandra took it gently.

“I know I don’t. But we’re friends. And I like taking care of you sometimes, that’s all…” she trailed off. Tom kept ahold of her hand as he washed down his bite with a sweating bottle of lager. She tried not to focus on the way his long fingers enveloped hers, in the familiarity of the gesture.

“Can I have it now?” he asked in a faux-petulant voice.

Alessandra snorted, pulling her hand back and pointing at his plate. “You can have it when you’re done with your food, young man.”

“But aren’t you going to eat?” he inquired. The look on his face was one of concern, and he looked Alessandra up and down, seemingly noting the thinness of her frame. He hadn't seen her in a couple of months.

“I did earlier. It’s close to midnight, Tom. I can’t sleep on a full stomach,” she replied, sitting back in her chair and drumming her fingers on the tabletop.

Putting a rather large combined bite of carrot and potato into his mouth, Tom gave her a cheeky grin before speaking with his mouth full.

“I can. I can sleep anywhere, anytime.”

She laughed at his quick change from suave gentleman to adorable little boy, shaking her head.

“Is that why you’re a nine on the dead scale, then?”

Tom knew where this line of questioning was going, and he hated it. Hated to admit that Alessandra was always right.

“No, ma’am. It’s because I’m working too hard, right?” he gave her the raised eyebrow of feigned innocence, continuing to eat. Alessandra found herself distracted by the way he was grasping a piece of the bread and using it to efficiently soak up some of the gravy from the roast.

“Correct,” she clucked sternly, getting up from the table and walking over to the worktop to retrieve his birthday gift. It was in a small, white paper bag. She hadn’t bothered with a card, but just wanted to give him something simple that he would like. Something made by her own hands – not something impersonal that he could easily afford himself.

“What’s this, then?” Tom asked, finishing his last bite of veg and draining the remnants of his beer.

“Open,” Alessandra nodded her head toward the bag as she pushed it to his side of the table. She could see understanding dawn on his face when one of his hands wrapped around the base of the bag.

“Oh you _didn’t…”_ he trailed off, nimble fingers tearing open the top of the bag as his eyelids narrowed at her smug expression.

Winking devilishly at him, Alessandra maneuvered Tom’s plate out of the way as he lifted the cellophane-wrapped baggie of goodies from its hiding place.

“You _naughty_ little girl,” Tom purred, tearing into the clear packaging with aplomb as Alessandra sat back in her chair, inordinately pleased with herself (and with his reaction). “Are these the ones you make?”

He was almost whining with anticipation, and Alessandra could see his pupils were practically dilating at the thought of what was about to happen. She nodded, smirking. Her nonchalance was carefully practiced – inside she was warming at his sensual, pleased reaction. She played off the gift.

“Dark chocolate, chocolate mint, and chocolate cherry liqueur truffles. I made some of all three for you, Thomas. Happy birthday.”

Standing to lean over the table, Alessandra gave Tom a quick kiss on his forehead, hearing the sharp intake of breath at the feeling of her soft lips connecting with his skin. Alessandra assumed that many of Tom’s…other women…were always clueless about birthday gifts. They gave it too much thought, or they spent too much money. It was next-level bullshit, all those females trying to outdo their predecessors.

Tom was a man. He loved chocolate things. Men could be wooed with food. And what better way to prove herself indispensable?

Not only was Alessandra his favorite neighbour, she took care of him and made him chocolates.

 _Simple, ladies,_ she thought to herself.

He had one of the chocolate mint ones halfway to his mouth, that pink tongue peeking out at her, when she grabbed his wrist none too gently.

_“No.”_

Tom startled, confused by Alessandra’s command. She didn’t miss how he listened to her immediately, dropping the truffle-laden fingers of his right hand to the table. Warmth stirred in her belly at the power she seemed to have over this successful, imposing, handsome man. Before he could retort, she snatched the truffle from his hand, holding it temptingly close to her own mouth.

“You can have some after you get yourself upstairs and into the bath, Thomas,” she spoke sternly, lowly. “It’s late. Your body is exhausted and you need rest.”

As she grabbed the bag of treats with one hand, she fed herself the truffle with the other, standing at the table and smirking at him. She knew him well – he would go and go and go until his body literally shut down, and he needed to sleep. Her bravado wavered a bit as Tom stalked around the table toward her, hands reaching out and threading through her long red hair. She swallowed the truffle and licked her bottom lip self-consciously, wondering if she’d overstepped. Tom’s hands gently cradled her head, tilting it back as he loomed over her, staring into her hazel eyes.

“Yes ma’am. And thank you for dinner, and my gift.” He pressed an agonizingly slow kiss on Alessandra’s right cheek, then her left, and was suddenly gone, walking out of the kitchen. His voice called back to her.

“Will you be staying here, as usual?”

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the empty beer bottle and Tom’s cutlery from the table and adopted her commanding tone as she walked to the sink. “You bet your ass. Go upstairs, Tom.”

His low chuckle of laughter sent a shiver of arousal straight down her spine.

 

 

There wasn’t much to clean in the kitchen since the roasting pan had to soak and she’d loaded the dishwasher. The leftovers were stocked neatly in Tom’s fridge, and Alessandra carefully wiped the worktops and wrapped up the rest of the baked bread for morning toast. She walked out of the kitchen once but, on a whim, backtracked, and retrieved the bag of truffles as she headed into the foyer to see what the laundry situation would be. She didn’t mind doing his laundry, but most of the items he’d packed were in suit bags and needed to be dry-cleaned. Ralph Lauren wasn’t exactly washable, sometimes.

After assessing the damage and seeing that everything was, indeed, dirty, Alessandra decided to just worry about the wash the next morning. She wanted to get upstairs, change into her sleeping attire, and give her sweet friend a hug goodnight – and a truffle or two since he’d followed after-dinner orders so well.

The thought she had about shoving him onto his bed and kissing him senseless teased her all the way up the stairs until she banished it to the farthest reaches of her mind.

 _You’ve been forward enough this evening, young lady,_ she scolded herself.

Alessandra passed Tom’s room, noting that the water in the shower was still running – and the door was open. She stopped for a moment to see steam billowing out from the bathroom, and let herself imagine just who, exactly, was behind the shower curtain. He’d been training quite religiously since he’d done _The Night Manager_ , and his latest role in _Skull Island_ called for him to beef up even more. Alessandra had never minded him when he was skinny – muscled, but thin when they first met – but now that he had additional bulk and that lean, tapered look that comes with ever-broadening shoulders and a tight abdomen (not to mention his divine behind), she loved the additional weight of him.

She wanted to see it on him, see how he carried it underneath all those suits and shirts and sweaters. Alessandra wanted to _taste_ it on him. She knew the muscle would only enhance his devastating effects.

The water of the shower turned off, startling her back to reality. She fled down the hallway to one of Tom’s guest rooms, quietly closing the door and tossing the bag of truffles onto the bed where some of her clothes were strewn. Stretching a bit, Alessandra sauntered to the window, closing the curtains after looking down at the quiet, dark street below the house.

 _I could go home now,_ she thought, _but I always stay in case he needs something. He’s practically helpless the first 24 hours he’s home._

If she were honest with herself, nothing would have dragged her away. She rummaged in her bag for her toiletries and washed her face, then brushed her teeth. Plugging in her phone beside the bed, Alessandra turned the volume off so nothing in the house would wake Tom. She usually brought one of his cordless phones into the guest room so she could answer while he slept, too. It wasn’t until she had changed into boxers and a soft vest top from Victoria’s Secret that said **EXERCISE? EXTRA FRIES** on it that she noticed the house was deathly quiet. She smiled.

 _Probably asleep already,_ she thought. Deciding to go and check just once before she turned in, Alessandra grabbed the bag of birthday truffles and tiptoed quietly back to Tom’s bedroom. The bathroom light was still on, as was the overhead light in his room. She was about to ask him if he needed something when she saw him.

Splayed out asleep on the bed, only slightly underneath the sheets.

Hair still slightly damp and curly.

_Totally naked._

She knew this as fact because, although part of Tom’s long legs had made it under the duvet, he hadn’t pulled it past his upper thighs, and she could see his cock – stiff and lightly grasped in his right hand – straining for some sort of attention that he must have been giving it before he dropped off.

Alessandra would have laughed at the way Tom was draped across his bed, mouth slightly open in deep slumber, but her mouth was watering at the sight before her eyes. If she thought he was gorgeous with clothes on, then he was fucking deadly without them.

 _I certainly never saw all this when he was passed out with the flu,_ she shivered. His whole body seemed to broaden with each deep, even breath he took. Moving quietly toward his nightstand, Alessandra lightly deposited the bag of truffles beside his glasses and mobile, and then went to turn out the lights.

She had to fight to look away from those newly-muscled arms, the deep vee of his abdominals, and that delicious erection that didn’t seem to be going away.

There would be quite a bit of touching herself tonight, she decided. A thrill shot through her when she thought about masturbating in his house, just down the hall from where he slept. Wicked thoughts of what he might do if he found her flooded her brain, warming her face.

The bathroom switch was easy, as it could be turned off without a sound. But the overhead bedroom light made a bit of a flick sound when she pressed it off. Just moments after the bedroom plunged into darkness and Alessandra was making her way out of the room, she heard him.

_“Alessandra…”_

It was a whisper, quiet in volume, but a growl just the same.

She froze where she was, her eyes trying to adjust to the blackness surrounding her. Perhaps he was dreaming? Her vision was still mostly obscured by the abrupt change from light to dark, but she could now make out Tom’s shape silhouetted by some of the moonlight streaming in through the thin fabric of the curtains. He remained in the same position as before, splayed prostrate and partially beneath his linens, but he was moaning softly. The more Alessandra’s eyes adjusted, the more she saw.

He was stroking himself.

The friendly, polite neighbour in her wanted to leave the room and give exhausted Tom some privacy, but the young woman who was helplessly attracted to this man stayed rooted to the spot. In fact, she found herself moving closer to his bed. Before Alessandra could stop herself, she was crawling onto the bed with him, her eyes locked on those graceful fingers of his grasping at his cock. Wetness began to burst forth, drop by slow drop, into her panties. Instinct moved Alessandra’s hand to brush some of the hair from Tom’s eyes, and he stirred slightly – still evidently in a deep sleep.

 _“Alessandra…”_ he moaned again, his face turning toward her soft touch, eyes still closed.

She knew she was a bitch for doing it, but she whispered softly, sensually to him to rouse him a bit, running a soothing hand down his arm, then down the hard muscle of his chest. “Tom,” she murmured, “wake up…”

His hips bucked slightly as he made another pass along the length of his erection, and he began to regain consciousness. Alessandra kept sweeping gentle touches along his skin as she knelt down beside his head.

“Do you want some chocolate, Thomas?” she crooned quietly at him, placing an unfair kiss against the pulse at his throat. “I promised you some…”

He lazily raised a hand to curl lightly around the back of her neck, and pulled her mouth extremely close to his. Her sharp intake of breath sounded thunderous to her own ears. The formation of each of his whispered words brushed his soft lips against her own.

“Make me _cum,_ Alessandra.”

He’d opened his bleary eyes to stare at her, biting his bottom lip as he continued gaining awareness.

She didn’t need to be told twice.

Alessandra kissed him fully, thoroughly, on the mouth until he growled deep in his throat at her, both of his hands coming up to rest possessively against the nape and side of her neck. Before he could change his mind, she positioned her thighs on either side of his chest and slowly began working her way down his abdomen, lightly kissing and sucking at his clean skin, scraping her nails along the indentations of his muscles. He hissed in pleasure, half-sitting up with the sensations. When he collapsed back onto his pillows, his hands found their way into her hair – a move she was coming to enjoy the more he did it.

When his grip tightened and he tilted her head up, she removed her tongue from his bellybutton, staring up at him with fire in her eyes. He said nothing, just stared in her eyes for a long moment before nodding his head slowly, two times, signaling her to continue.

She licked a careful trail across his skin from one hipbone to the other, careful not to put any of her weight on his groin – she wanted to make him insane with his need for her.

_Enjoy this while it lasts…_

Alessandra raked nails down the inner part of Tom’s rigid thigh muscles, savouring the hissed _fuck_ that fell from his lips as she did so.

“Hands by your head until I say so,” she smiled, and Tom complied immediately – much as he had during dinner. “Such a good neighbour.”

He tilted his head back and grinned, giving her a devious little laugh. But when she wrapped firm fingers around him, his steely gaze found hers again. She gave him three slow pumps, watching the breath exhale from him each time she swirled her small palm around the head of his cock. He was staring at her so intensely that her panties were stuck to her weeping pussy, flooding at the sight of him: muscled body, corded neck, sinful eyes, and moist mouth.

When he groaned, _“yes, baby”_ at Alessandra, still staring obscenely at her, his jaw working overtime in concentration, all hell broke loose.

Sliding forward skillfully, she made sure he watched as she reached down and peeled her panties and boxers to one side before sliding her smooth, wet pussy atop his throbbing cock.

Tom threw his head back and stuttered, eyes closed.

She’d had enough of being polite. “Put your hands in my hair again, Thomas,” Alessandra commanded.

He whimpered in relief when he made contact with her dark red tresses once more.

“Good boy,” she laughed sweetly, starting to rub her swollen pussy lips against him very, very slowly. Then she stopped abruptly. Alessandra felt his fingers flex in her hair in frustration. “Up on your elbows, sweetheart,” she continued.

He was up in a flash, hands out of her hair and eyes looking down at the place where their bodies made contact.

“Look at my face, Tom. _Yes,_ that’s good,” Alessandra rewarded him with a tiny stroke of her hips. He stared, slack-jawed at her beautiful face, willing himself to stay focused so she would reward him. “Now I want you to use those gorgeous muscles of yours and thrust against me.”

She had to slow him down twice, he was so eager for the friction they made together. But the picture he made, good God… His veined arms were trembling as he held himself up on elbows, desperately trying to keep his eyes locked on hers as his stomach muscles flexed over and over again, seeking relief. He was panting, clenching his jaw and saying her name in a pleading tone.

_“Alessandra…d-darling…”_

She began moving slowly with him, savouring the feeling of his cock rubbing against her aroused clit. One of her hands found purchase on his hipbone, steadying her as she continued to hold her panties to the side. Biting her lip in a fresh wave of her own arousal, Alessandra moaned quietly before asking Tom an unfair question.

“Do you want me to _come_ over more often, Thomas?” her breath caught in her throat as a particularly strong stab of pleasure shot between her legs, and she leered at him darkly. He could barely form words, so intent was he on keeping the rhythm of their pleasure alive; she, however, stopped moving and awaited his response, one eyebrow raised in expectation.

In between heaving, aroused breaths, Tom answered her, stilling his own movements with immense effort.

“I want you t-to…come whenever you can, darling,” he stuttered adorably. _“Please…”_

Satisfied with his answer, and not a little pleased, Alessandra moved herself off of Tom quickly, relishing the yelp of disappointment that issued from him. And yet, when he saw her situate herself once more between his legs to bend down and place a soft little lick on the head of his painfully aroused cock, the yelp turned into a rather more vocal sound.

“Fucking _yes...”_ he hissed, “put that beautiful mouth on my cock…do it…”

Alessandra was kidding herself if she didn’t admit that her mouth had been watering since she’d laid foot in Tom’s room to see him naked and asleep, teasing his dick. She’d worked him to the point where she couldn’t wait to suck him off, and she desperately wanted to feel his cum spurting down her throat as he fucked her mouth.

She wasn’t promiscuous, per se, but past boyfriends had always complimented her on her oral skills; however, she’d never been with anyone quite as _endowed_ as Tom. The rumors were indeed true…she’d thought as much that time she’d taken care of him, catching a glimpse of him in boxers as he slept off his flu virus those few years ago. But now to have him here, hands laced back in her hair and hips desperately trying to rise up and meet her, she could definitely see how relaxed she’d have to be.

Her own arousal won out, though, and she had him as far into her throat as she could go, with one small hand covering the throbbing base of him, before he could urge her on any further. The traces of moisture she’d left on him earlier from her weeping center made her moan around him, the combination of her and him wildly intoxicating.

 _“Nngh…”_ Tom groaned at her sound, bucking his hips and grasping her hair with a bit more force than before. _“Alessandra…”_

Not only did she love the taste of him, but the sounds…he was the sexiest thing she’d ever heard – and that was before any of this had ever started! Now, with his cock pulsing between her lips and those delicious fingers in her hair, urging her up and down his length, she wanted to elicit as much noise from him as possible. She broke from him quickly, stroking him with her hand as she hissed another command.

“Talk to me, gorgeous boy.” And then she was deep-throating him best she could, sucking and slurping and moaning her appreciation at his beautiful body shaking and bucking beneath her.

“Feels so… _ungh_ …good…my Alessandra…”

She was going to come – without being touched – if he kept saying her name like that.

_Christ._

Feeling his balls tightening, she knew he was close, and she took a chance, looking up to watch his beautiful face contort in pleasure, his eyes presumably closed.

Wrong.

His head and neck were craned uncomfortably, watching her every movement as his hips beat a harsh rhythm upward. When Alessandra’s eyes finally worked their way up to Tom’s, her tongue darting out momentarily to tickle the vein pulsing along his cock, his baby blues widened, nostrils flaring, and he began to shudder and chant.

“Fu-UCK! _Yes…yes…yes…YES!”_

His back was curling upward toward her, hands clenched in her hair as he howled his release, never looking away from her. Alessandra swallowed his salty spurts in satisfaction, continuing to suck at Tom softly, coaxing every last drop of cum from him.

“Alessandra… _GOD_ …” his head finally dropped backward, shakes wracking his entire body as she drew out the orgasm as expertly as she could. “No more, darling…p-please,” he panted, groaning as he removed his hands from her long, wavy hair and began running them over his damp face.

She made one final impression on Tom when she took a last pass with her mouth from base to tip, licking lightly all the way up his softening cock.

Her reward was a violent, whole-body shudder.

Her second reward came when she moved off of him moments later, readjusting her panties and boxers, wiping her mouth politely. Tom was reaching out for her, a warm and sated smile on his face. He looked even more exhausted than when she’d met him in the foyer earlier, but the need on his face melted Alessandra. She crept down daintily beside him, allowing him to gather her in his arms.

 _This is new,_ she thought, closing her eyes as his warmth and scent washed over her.

His mouth found its way to the shell of her ear and Alessandra’s breath caught in her throat.

“You are absolutely gorgeous and you spoil me rotten,” Tom purred, dropping a series of warm, wet kisses against Alessandra’s neck. “Thank you for, uhm, taking care of me. I don’t think I’ve ever been attended to so… _thoroughly.”_

She felt him blushing, turning her head to place a hand sweetly on his face. He closed his eyes at her touch once more, and she knew now how tired he really was. She’d exhausted him even more.

Alessandra meant to place a tiny goodnight kiss on his lips, but as soon as she made contact, Tom livened up again, wrapping strong arms around her and licking at her mouth so he could taste her with his tongue. Melting against him, Alessandra wanted nothing more than to stay with him, in his bed, but she knew he’d let her keep him up all night.

He needed sleep, and lots of it.

_Perhaps I could play with him tomorrow in the afternoon?_

After several tries, she disentangled herself from her neighbour’s somewhat possessive grasp, kissing his forehead several times in apology. “You need to sleep, Thomas,” she scolded playfully, standing up from the bed and absently twirling a strand of hair around her index finger.

With heavy, petulant eyes, he tried to bargain with her. “But you can sleep in here with _me,_ Alessandra,” he pouted adorably.

“Oh no you don’t,” she retorted, laughing a little at his deceptive ploy to lure her back in to bed. “I can tell you right now that if I stay in this bed there will be no sleeping.”

 _Might as well admit it out loud,_ she thought before she continued, backing away toward the door.

“Goodnight, Tom. Glad you’re home safe sweetheart,” Alessandra murmured, giving him a cute little smile.

His sexy, sleepy voice followed her into the hallway as she made her own way to bed.

“Goodnight, beautiful Alessandra.”

 

 

It took quite a bit of restraint to shut the door to the guest bedroom as quietly as she could, and Alessandra was in a hurry. She was agitated, flushed…extremely turned on by what had just happened. It hadn’t been planned, but Tom had been naked and…touching himself and then he asked her – asked her! – to get him off.

He was so warm and responsive, had been so eager to touch her and do as she bade him. And his body…that gorgeous, long, muscled body, thrusting and shaking for her.

She was tearing her boxers and panties off, reaching up not long after to yank the top over her head before hurling herself onto the guest bed, up on her knees.

Alessandra’s head fell forward as her hands traveled between her thighs, the fingers of her right teasing her painfully hard clit, and two of her left slipping easily into her soaked core. She bit her lip until she tasted blood, not wanting to cry out, but her overwhelming need for relief overruled her need to keep quiet.

Little pants issued from her swollen mouth, seeming to echo in the darkness of the guest room, as she tried to _slowly_ stroke herself, tried to savour the fiery arousal between her shaking legs. The rich new cache of images in her mind – those of Tom and his body coming for her – spurred her onward faster than anything else she’d ever seen or done.

Spreading her knees wider, her hips working in time with her hands, Alessandra knew that her impending orgasm was going to be unbelievably strong and satisfying, and she also knew – from practice – that she could elongate it by focusing on thoughts of Tom. If anything, the very thought of him always made her come _harder._

The first fluttering began in her belly, that delicious tingle that rewards the hard work of body and mind, together as one. And just as she was about to breathe out his name – quietly as she could manage - when the first contraction hit, the bedroom door flew open and a very naked, very _still awake_ Tom had her hands behind her back, her soaked fingers clasped in one of his large hands.

She cried out in a mixture of surprise and extreme frustration at what he’d just robbed her of.

He, for his part, looked _enraged._

That previously-sleepy face was mere centimetres from hers, his breath heaving out of him as much as hers was leaving her own body.

 _“NO,”_ he scolded in a stern, booming command. “On your back, Alessandra. _Now.”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our story - and Tom's neighbour - comes to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Night Manager is still at the TOP of my list of problems.  
> Add the recent Vietnam kayak/zip lining photos.  
> Tom Hiddleston's body is OUT. OF. CONTROL.
> 
> Enjoy part two. I'll be in my bunk, as they say.
> 
> Talk to me!
> 
> xoxo

The hurt in Alessandra’s eyes only barely masked the rage and arousal she was still feeling.

He’d scolded her! Walked in on her, ruining a perfectly excellent orgasm, and _scolded_ her.

And managed to maneuver her backward onto the bed before she could retaliate. She was shaking, hands fisting in her own hair to hide their aggression, but Tom was all efficient movement now, the edge gone from his voice. Alessandra stared hard at him, her breath coming out in labored little puffs of air.

Tom wasted no time wedging his thick thighs between her legs, spreading her open before him, and he dropped forward slightly, resting a pale, freckled forearm beside her right breast. His immediate close proximity startled her, and the hands currently tangled in her hair moved to grasp the edges of the pillow underneath her head.

He’d _seemed_ harmless enough when he was lovingly thanking her for dinner earlier, and again when she’d found him asleep and whispering her name. But now he was overtop her, staring at her with those maddeningly sexy eyes, crowding her space with his significantly bulked up body.

Still, _still_ completely naked. And warm.

Tom heard and felt Alessandra’s intake of breath and could see that she was about to say something, but the sound died in her throat shortly thereafter.

He’d placed a gentle thumb right over her soaked clit and was just barely rubbing it – giving the little button feather-light touches. The almost imperceptible movement was enough to restart her pleasure, but did little to assuage the need coursing through her veins once more. It was a holding pattern from hell. Before she knew what she was doing, she had her tiny hands curled around Tom’s shoulders, trying unconsciously to pull him forward, closer, and thus force more stimulation to her aching flesh.

Craning her head upward, she allowed her eyes to sweep lazily down the smooth, muscled plane of his chest and stomach, all the way down to the erection that once more bobbed angrily between his legs. The running he always did attributed itself in the thickness of his thighs, still parting hers.

“Ah, ah, _ah,”_ he chastised her. “Look here, Alessandra.”

The redhead’s gaze lingered much too long on Tom’s teasing thumb, and he moved it back just a teensy bit so that he was no longer touching her. Her body unconsciously tried to buck forward, but she was split open, braced apart by Tom’s legs – she couldn’t move anywhere but back. Unfortunately, there was no way in hell she was moving _away_ from his hand.

Squeezing her eyes shut in frustration and throwing her arms at her sides, nails digging angrily into the down of the duvet and face turned away, Alessandra huffed out what wouldn’t be the last of her angry sighs. She tried one last time to push her body forward, toward Tom’s hand that was now…

Oh _fuck._

The offending thumb that was causing Alessandra so much grief was now tracing soothing circles along her hipbone, just as his other hand – previously resting on the bedding – had found its way through her tangled hair to cradle her straining neck.

“Be a good neighbour, darling. Do us a favour,” Tom whispered devilishly.

His word choice irked her; hadn’t she already done him several neighbourly favours – and one _not_ so neighbourly – that evening? She was about to attempt a snide comment when his hip-tracing thumb stopped, and the cool air hit her flesh there. He’d gotten some of Alessandra’s slickness on her hipbone when he used that torturous thumb to try and calm her; now she felt the searing heat of his mouth right where his thumb had been – and her head shot up to see if what she was indeed feeling was real.

Lapping at the traces of her moisture, Tom swirled his tongue around Alessandra’s hip thoroughly before placing an open-mouthed kiss there, making sure all of her essence had been tasted away.

Perhaps it had been his plan all along; when her eyes finally met his once more, he winked, and swiftly returned his thumb to Alessandra’s poor, ignored little bundle of nerves.

She felt as though Tom’s eyes were touching her as much as that delicious thumb was – his gaze seemed to burn brighter and brighter as he locked into her stare, leaning toward her face again when he began more slow, steady circles against her. The touch was only a fraction more firm, but still unbelievably stimulating, and Alessandra started to make a small keening noise in partial relief.

Her sound was punished – if one could call it a punishment – by Tom’s thumb pushing tightly against Alessandra’s clit, no longer moving.

“Huh uh. _No._ Quiet, Alessandra.”

She closed her mouth and the thumb returned to its lazy, sweet circles. Adjusting his free hand so that he could splay his fingers along Alessandra’s cheek and the column of her neck, Tom continued his directives.

“Touch me if you’d like.”

Oh, she _liked._ Her right hand resumed its possession of an immense bicep – when did he get _those?_ – and her left curled into the short hair at the back of Tom’s head, near the base of his skull.

“If you look away, you know what happens, don’t you?”

This question was met with a pause at her clit again, and she nodded so quickly in agreement that he smiled, starting his ministrations once more. Her nails were digging into him but Tom didn’t seem to mind. Suddenly, she couldn’t help it – he’d started to go just a little bit faster and an adorable whimper escaped from her.

The thumb stopped.

Again.

Tom quirked that insufferable fucking eyebrow at her misfortune, smiling all the while. Alessandra was biting her lip hard, her breathing erratic and her eyebrows furrowing at the strength it took to just _obey._

Since when had she ever obeyed any man? This guy was only her neighbour.

_Yes but your neighbour is almost two tall metres of pure sex and hands down the most gorgeous man on the planet!_

Tom’s next comment came just as he’d leaned into Alessandra’s face, pressing his mouth close to hers. The tip of his tongue licked at the spot where her top teeth bit into her lower lip, effectively signaling to her that she should relax.

“No noise, Alessandra. Just breathe for me, darling.”

He placed his mouth against her own, swallowing the sharp exhale that came when his thumb resumed its teasing. Tom seemed so in tune with Alessandra’s need that his breaths began to match hers – he was almost stuttering as much as she with the eroticism of the scene. A few times he mouthed at her, dragging his bottom lip lightly along her chin, the tip of her nose, and against the fullness of her mouth.

And as hard as it was for Tom to break apart from her, he eventually did so, sitting back slightly from her face so Alessandra could continue looking into his azure eyes. Her hands continued clutching onto him, afraid at any moment that he would stop again. The thumb was getting slightly faster, a little more forceful. She only breathed and watched, not even daring to move her hips for fear of desertion.

Tom’s left hand returned to cup the back of the beautiful woman’s neck, this time cradling the skin and bone there more forcefully, more possessively. His eyes never left Alessandra’s, and he was enjoying watching her pupils dilating, her eyes getting wider and wider as the coil in her belly began to curl in on itself.

His attention blazed through her – he was giving her the sweetest, most acute pleasure – and was focused solely on staring at her as she received it. His mouth was open, inhaling and exhaling breath as he studied Alessandra like a fine work of art – and at the same time like she was pure pornography and he wanted to defile her.

When she started to tremble a bit, her nails biting into his flesh and her breaths coming faster, his eyelids hooded and Tom began nodding at her slowly, silently encouraging her to accept that she was going to come at his hand, _very_ hard. Tom broke eye contact to look down at his thumb, so large and skilled, swirling effectively against Alessandra’s tiny, swollen clit.

“What kind of neighbour would I be, darling, if I didn’t reciprocate?” he growled at her, suddenly removing his hand from behind her head and reaching down to his angry-looking cock. Apparently he was allowed to talk, because he finished his own question with a growl.

 _“Fuck,”_ he spat, his eyes moving to where his left thumb began spreading leaking drops of pre-cum around his head.

Alessandra broke both rules. Accidentally.

 _“Tom…”_ she whimpered, feeling her orgasm begin to overtake her. She was looking back and forth at both of his hands, now equally busy stimulating the both of them.

 _Talking?_ Check.

 _Loss of eye contact?_ Check.

“So pretty when you say my name,” Tom moaned, immediately pulling his hand away from Alessandra’s sex and rocking back on his heels with his cock still in his fist, “but so _disobedient.”_

The thumb covered in her juices went into his mouth, and Alessandra watched as Tom sucked at the digit, starting to pull at his erection quite forcefully. He looked at her the entire time, proud of his lustful display for her. He seemed to be giving in to his pleasure, and she was sure he was going to jack off there in front of her. She wanted him to. The neediest part of her wanted him to coat her face, chest, and stomach in his cum.

But his resolve was quite impressive – most likely because he’d already gotten his fair share earlier. So he moved his sticky thumb – the one that had toyed with the slick beads of fluid leaking from his cock – into Alessandra’s mouth. As she lapped eagerly at his taste – just the fact that she was tasting him again, _god_ – Tom surprised her once more, yanking her up off the guest bed and into his arms.

“You can squeal all the way down the fucking hallway for all I care, young lady. But as soon as we’re in my bed? _Get quiet.”_

He said these mildly threatening, incredibly seductive words as he arranged Alessandra against him, standing up and wrapping a solid arm around her waist, hand splayed against her shoulder blade. He made her wrap her legs around his waist, and the position pressed her slick, throbbing pussy against the sharp smoothness of his hipbone. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders of their own volition, and since he didn’t specify what she was to do with her head, she bit into the flesh where his neck met his shoulder.

“I’m sure you’re upset, Alessandra, but is that any way to treat your fellow neighbour?” he teased, not caring one jot that she’d left significant teeth marks in his flesh.

Carrying her – one-armed – across the threshold of the bedroom and out into the hallway, Tom sought to punish her right back. It was lucky she was allowed to make noise in the hallway, because Tom quickly maneuvered her closer toward his front, finagling his free hand between them. She heard his evil laugh – that low sound that emanated from his broad chest whenever he was feeling particularly sinister – the precursor to what happened next.

Carefully, but with considerable force, he slid two of those famously talked-about fingers deep into the slickness of her clenching cunt, and began thrusting into her furiously, grunting softly with the force of his movements.

“ _Oh GODDAMN IT…_ ” Alessandra wailed, holding tighter to her tormenter and taking advantage of the YELLING IS ACCEPTABLE IN THE HALLWAY and MY CURRENT RANGE OF MOTION ALLOWS ME TO MOVE MY HIPS AGAINST HIS HAND rules that were currently in place.

But not for long.

Tom slowed his long, thin digits to a lazy pace as they reached the doorway to his room, and Alessandra laid her head on his shoulder in exhausted defeat. He just kept building a girl up, only to bring her down.

He was very good at it.

Moving over to his bed and sitting at the edge, Tom continued to gently finger fuck his hot-and-bothered friend, his other hand still wrapped protectively around her. She was able to find purchase on the bed with her knees, but remained in Tom’s lap, facing him.

 _Talking?_ No, she was quiet again, panting softly.

 _Eye contact?_ Yes sir, she was looking at him pleadingly.

He rewarded her.

“That’s very good. You can thrust against my fingers, Alessandra,” Tom murmured, keeping her close but not bothering to hasten the rhythm of his hand. He was simply content to observe her much as he had earlier when rubbing the sweet spot between her thighs.

He’d never had this particular problem before, but hearing her soft, lovable little exhales of breath after each of his thrusts soon had him ready to explode.

“You don’t seem to understand that I’m _not_ sleeping without you,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You can boss me around all you like about resting and eating well and recharging –”

He felt her tightening around his fingers and knew she was positively _fighting_ not to cry out and come. Tom placed a quick kiss on Alessandra’s mouth to reward her. Her tongue was swiping at his lips, begging for more attention, and he obliged – happily, if not for long.

“And I’m so lucky to have you to care for me, Alessandra,” he continued.

She suddenly felt a third finger slip easily into her aching heat. He grinned at her wide eyes, at the knowledge that she was positively full of him in that moment.

His thumb resumed its position at her clit, just in time for his next statement.

“But you’re not telling me what to do for the remainder of the evening. I am absolutely _refusing_ to sleep until I’ve had my fill of you, whether you like it or not.”

Tom stood up, and were she not so far gone with need, Alessandra would have been impressed at his dexterity – he kept stimulating her pussy and turned them around, moving so that she was once more spread out on a bed, Tom between her legs watching her with heat and curiosity in his eyes. His fingers plunged faster, and to make matters worse, he was now using both hands: strumming the digits of his left back and forth along her drenched bud, and curling three of his right inside of her.

This snapped Alessandra into immediate overdrive, and Tom graciously allowed her to cant her hips – she was still following the rules, after all. He leaned down to press sloppy kisses all over her mouth and face, which she eagerly reciprocated, but the dam was too close to breaking. She’d been on edge for well over an hour now, and no amount of holding onto him or kissing his lips or sucking on his tongue was going to steady her. It just came tumbling out of her.

_“PleasegodTomPLEASEIjustneedyouto…wantedtoforsolongohGODIneedtocome…TOM…”_

The fingers rubbing her clit vanished; the pleasurable thrusting in her cunt slowed, slowed, and stilled. With three fingers seated inside her, completely motionless, Tom sat back again.

Two tears began dripping from Alessandra’s eyes in agony. She’d been so, so close for the third _fucking_ time and now the ache was bordering on pain.

Pushing Tom with her hands and moving gingerly so she removed herself from his soaked fingers, Alessandra scrambled backward on the bed away from him, wiping at her aggravated tears and pulling her legs into her so she was sitting up, curled in on herself. To his credit, he gave her a few seconds, but then gently pulled her legs out from under her so she was on her back again.

This time, Tom pressed his entire body – head to toe – atop Alessandra’s so she wouldn’t be able to avoid his gaze or move away from him. She hiccupped softly and he chuckled a bit at how he’d made her unravel from the bossy neighbour who put him to bed earlier.

“Oh, Alessandra darling, let me give you something to _really_ cry about…”

In a flash, as though he’d been holding himself back like a man starved, Tom was on his stomach at the end of the bed between Alessandra’s knees, his large hands grasping her delicate hipbones. The span of those sinful hands was wide enough that he was able to spread her swollen labia with his thumbs, placing delicate, warm kisses on the lips of her pussy.

“I’m immensely lucky to have you,” he purred against her sex, grinning up at her.

Without any fanfare, Tom proceeded to lap at Alessandra’s clit, no longer teasing but giving her firm, long licks that were designed to get her back to her orgasm as quickly as possible. At first he licked her from the gushing center of her slit to her aching little bud, spreading around her sweet cream, but he knew his neighbour needed relief – and he’d withheld it too long.

She was up on elbows before he’d even said anything – a position she’d forcibly told Tom to take when they were both last in his bed. Alessandra used the leverage of her arms and began to roll her hips toward Tom’s face, her cunt thrusting against his slippery tongue. Her legs widened further and further the more Tom worked, and Alessandra gave a half-laugh, half-sob as Tom encouraged her with his hands – and a desperate nodding of his head – to fuck his mouth.

Bracing herself with one elbow still on the bed, plucking at a taut nipple, Alessandra was panting, sometimes moaning her impending satisfaction as Tom ate feverishly between her thighs. When she reached a small hand down through her little patch of reddish curls to hold herself open to him, she could swear he growled at her.

This new view, and her helpful access for Tom, allowed Alessandra to see the full measure of just what he was doing. He evidently wanted to make sure she was looking, because he flashed those brilliant eyes up at her whilst demonstrating his talents.

Still moving her hips back and forth to aid in her thrusting motion, Tom was alternating between sucking forcefully at her throbbing clit, flicking it with the firm point of his tongue, and kissing it with an open mouth. When he tilted his head a bit so she could see how long his tongue was, running against her flesh and licking up her cream, she heaved a breathy sigh of satisfaction.

_“Yess…”_

Her hips began to stutter, and Alessandra could feel the telltale flush along her face, neck, and chest that signaled she was going to come – blessedly – very soon. Moving her fingers from her sex to grasp the back of Tom’s head, she pressed him tightly against her as she continued thrusting against his mouth. Tom noted the closeness of the position, as well as the erratic rhythm of her hips, and slid down for a split second to fuck her with his tongue, pushing into Alessandra several times in quick succession until she began moaning her preference.

“C-clit… _please_ … _lick my fucking clit_ …oh god _PLEASE…Tom!”_

One of his enormous hands joined Alessandra’s against the back of his head, reinforcing the feeling for her of his lips and tongue furiously slicking against her little pearl. Tom’s eyes leered at her all the while, almost taunting her into coming on his tongue. Alessandra knew she was just a few firm strokes from climaxing, and she knew she was shaking like a leaf – she wanted to throw her head back in the bliss that was clouding her head, but was afraid if she looked away Tom would stop.

She would positively kill him if he did that again.

So Alessandra forced herself to be an obedient neighbour and kept staring in Tom’s eyes as he fucked her with his face; she trembled with the effort.

 _Just…a_ _few…more licks…_ she thought, and felt the razor’s edge of agony/pleasure as she kept bucking against Tom’s mouth. She worked feverishly against him, almost counting down in her head and knowing she needed one more good lap of his tongue.

Instead of that much-needed last swipe against her, Tom started sucking Alessandra’s wet, satiny button with as much force as he could muster, quirking that eyebrow and giving her the most intense look she’d ever seen him give anyone.

She was coming.

Oh, she was _coming, coming, coming_.

Alessandra was coming after trying to get herself off, after being teased, after being touched and fingered and licked and kissed for what felt like days. And Tom wasn’t stopping – oh no. He had her hips in his grip and kept sucking until Alessandra was almost screaming, and then he began licking at her through aftershock after aftershock, delighting in how she trembled and cried with her hands in his hair and her legs now circling around his head.

Knowing she was sensitive, Tom lightened his touches, but never abandoned her gushing slit or her painfully sensitive button – he kept mouthing at her and pressing his lips to her, wanting to coat himself in her juice.

To his gentlemanly credit, when she finally firmly pushed at him and whispered _“stop”_ in a satisfied, broken voice, he did so immediately, moving away from her and trailing a languorous line of kisses from her pubic bone all the way up her neck, ending at her mouth. Alessandra was ready to sleep in that moment, tangling her tongue with Tom’s in a show of thanks she had no energy to express in words, and she felt as though she knew the fatigue that surely must’ve wracked his body.

He hauled her further up the bed with ease, giving himself room to stretch out atop her.

Sleep was the best option.

“Apologies, Alessandra,” Tom whispered, and the quiet of his tone was starkly different than his next action – he thrust his hard, aching erection into her trembling body in one go.

“Oh… _oh, oh…_ ” Alessandra moaned in surprise, wrapping arms and legs around her friend and wholly accepting his intrusion. _“Yes…”_

He tried to be gentle – he really did – but Tom had seen to Alessandra (albeit stopping several times in the process) for quite some time with a furious cock protesting between his legs, and he needed to be inside her. She had no energy to move with him, but pressed herself wholly against Tom as he fucked her brutally, drawing himself all the way out of her grasping pussy before slamming back in.

Alessandra was shaking and straining and crying for him all the while, biting at his mouth when he would brush against her overstimulated clit. He fused his mouth against hers, talking to her in a filthy tirade as those lean, gorgeous hip pistoned against her.

“I’m _so_ fucking tired, darling…but you’re so fucking _wet_ and you taste so sweet. And I’m going to get all that _delicious mess_ between your legs nice and creamy with my cock…”

She cried for him, cried orders to him.

_Harder._

_More._

_Don’t you ever fucking stop._

The two Hampstead residents were breathlessly fucking against one another, and Alessandra's body rallied at Tom’s voice and his earlier words. Pressing her heels into his muscled ass, she dug fingers into his hips and pulled him violently against her. The brush of his flat stomach and pubic bone against her bundle of nerves had her grinding against him without shame, seeking out as much pleasure as she could get from her handsome neighbour.

“Can I stay here and make you fuck me all over this goddamn house?” she growled, craning her neck to bite at him before laving her teeth marks with her tongue.

Tom gave an evil laugh of assent, moving one hand back between Alessandra’s thighs in an effort to make her scream for him. He rubbed at her sore, swollen clit until she grit her teeth, her eyes falling closed and her grip around him tightening.

“Only if you agree to sleep with me, beautiful Alessandra,” Tom groaned. “You’re not going anywhere. That guest bedroom is for friends or neighbours. _My_ bed is for my girl who takes such good care of me…”

Her “yes” was stuttered, for Tom had moved her so that her legs were over his broad shoulders, and he was stroking her at the deepest angle his fatigue would permit. This position allowed all of his smooth fingers to rasp against Alessandra, and she tightened against him almost immediately, half-sitting up to watch his cock shoving wetly into her while his fingers coated themselves in her cream.

Tom’s eyes widened when her small fingers joined his, rubbing and pressing and pinching her clit until she was right at the precipice again, her body dropping back against the pillows as she felt the first tingles of her orgasm.

It hit her when he dropped back down against her – her legs still bent over his shoulders – pressing fingers harshly against her button and grabbing tautly at her hair with his free hand to yank her mouth close to his. And in the most devastatingly simple terms he could use, Tom Hiddleston huskily groaned his release.

_“Coming…for you, Alessandra…coming…again…”_

 

 

It was adorable, she had to admit, the way he was physically taking stock of their closeness before they went to sleep for lord only knew how long.

His face was pressed against the side of her neck, with his mouth delicately kissing against the shell of her ear.

His chest and long, delicious torso were practically glued to Alessandra’s back, with one arm wrapped around her breasts and the other draped across her hips, palm splayed along her tummy.

His cock, soft and sated, was nestled in the little wet dip between her legs below the curve of her bottom.

He’d made sure their legs were tightly entwined, and their toes touched in familiarity. (Alessandra had cold toes for years, but tonight – or more exactly _this morning_ – they were pleasantly warm.)

She snuggled against her warm companion – she couldn’t really call him just friend or neighbour anymore – and purred a sweet “good night” when Tom pressed a searing kiss against the sensitive skin of her neck. His voice rasped in her ear a moment later.

“Do not even _think_ of moving away from me, Alessandra, or _so help me I will bind you to me in your sleep_.”

Alessandra laughed a tiny, tired laugh and stirred slightly in Tom’s arms.

“You’re too exhausted, Thomas.”

Turning her head, she gave him a loving, full kiss on the mouth. He broke away after a few moments, panting, to bite her on the neck before licking at the lobe of her ear.

“Try me.”


End file.
